Ride On
by JinaRocks
Summary: It's not the first time Cass wanted to "Stop it". Female!CastielxJohnWinchester.
1. Chapter 1

Disclaimer: Supernatural does not belong to me, I just borrowed it for play.

A/N: I know it's rough, but I kind of like it. Also I would like to mention that at the time Jimmy (Cass's vessel) would be a preteen/teenager, so Cass probably would find someone else to possess. And so I went with that.

A/N2: If you've read this before, I have changed details. Please re-read to prevent further chapters from confusing you.

* * *

When John Winchester busted in the door of a pub that had been vacated over ten years prior, the thing inside hardly flinched. No, it didn't even look up as it wiped off its long knife with the shirt of it's dead victim. John didn't think twice when he shot a round of iron into it's back. The problem is, it didn't even flinch then, it just turned around and stared at him, it's eyes wide and staring into his very soul.

"You're welcome," it said to him. The thing was in the guise of a pretty woman, tall, thin and beautiful. She was just his type. "Had you arrived earlier you could have been harmed."

"And just who the hell are you?" John replied gruffly, pulling out a can of salt, most likely to throw at her. He did.

"It is not of import," she said, spitting out salt and wiping off her pale face. She was covered in freckles, and pale strawberry blond hair. Built thin, but tall, she seemed frail. She sheathed her long silver knife, which was a type of weapon John couldn't identify and spoke again, "What does matter is that you are ready for the coming war."

"War?" John sounded mystified. He had only discovered the truth about the world a few months earlier, and as much as he learned, it only seemed to be a fraction of what was out there. He stood dumbfounded, with his Winchester shotgun in one hand, and a can of salt in the other, wondering if a knife would work better.

"I have to stop it. Maybe I could not stop your wife dying, but maybe if I do this, we can salvage the situation."  
The being had John's attention and he brought up his gun to her head as she began to walk towards him.

"What does this have to do with Mary? Did you kill her?" John's face seemed to screw up with frustration. The woman's face and tone remained completely calm, and seemed to possess no emotion, except for the sudden curl of her lips as she spoke.

"No, I did not," she said, looking him in the eye. There was something strangely innocent about it.

"Your wife was just in the wrong place at the wrong time. You already know what happened to your son. At least, part of it. I want to help you. The thing that killed her is planning something we can't stop. You can."

John swallowed and lowered his weapon, nodding eagerly. He wanted more than anything than to catch his wife's killer. The being reached into her coat pocket and handed him a piece of paper with an address in South Dakota on it.

"Go here. The man here can teach you all you need to know about demons. You do this, and you will have the knowledge to defeat it," she said softly as she backed up, "John Winchester, go now. Dean is ill."

When John looked up from the scrap of paper, the woman was gone. He looked around at the littered bodies of people on the ground. There were two women, and one man, and their eyes appeared to have burned out of their skull. What was that thing?

*****Cool transition here!*****

Twenty-six days later, John was listening to AC/DC's "Ride On" in his car, Dean asleep with Sam in his arms, as he drove to New Mexico from Bobby's house. He had been helpful if not irritating and hard to work with. To be fair, John knew he was often demanding and hard to work with himself. He burned with only one desire; to find the man who murdered his wife. At least Bobby helped care for Dean with his sudden fever. He nearly swerved when that woman popped into the passenger seat. Well, he did swerve into the other lane and then into the grooves on the side of the road trying to correct himself. He looked back at the boys and saw they were still asleep. John turned to glare at his passenger.

"Give a little warning next time. How do you do that anyway?"

The woman looked unconcerned as she turned her head, Creepily, John decided, like possession creepy, to regard him. John had learned quite a bit about possession from Bobby Singer, and had decided she was a demon. He already was forming a plan as she spoke.

"I have to stop it," she said, looking straight ahead again, "I have to stop it."

"Look, you are being really weird with all this cryptic nonsense. Tell me what the hell you want, for chrissakes!"

"I am sorry," the being said, looking down. For a moment, John almost felt bad. "It has been a long time since I have made contact with humans."

"What are you, exactly?"

"I cannot say. You can think of me as an enforcer. When balance is upset, we do not take kindly to it."

"That makes more sense," John muttered sarcastically, "And what exactly do you want of me?"

"To stop it."

"Stop what?"

"The Apocalypse," the being suddenly became tight lipped, as if it had said too much.

*****Cool transition here!*****

No matter how John had pried and lost his temper, she said nothing all the way to the motel. As John got out of the car, the being flitted out without opening the door.

"Is there something wrong with walking?" He grumbled. It was then, in the light of the parking lot he could see her front was covered in blood. She had on an expensive looking suit too.

"Are you okay?" John asked, rushing towards her. She looked down and then back up to his gaze.

"It is not mine. Demons are sometimes messy."

"Hey, you can't just walk around covered in blood. People are going to notice. I'm going to go check in, then you need to shower and get into some clean clothes."

*****Cool transition here!*****

While he was checking in, he bought a sweatsuit from the gift shop next door. John figured she didn't care about her looks, so it wouldn't matter if it was an ugly color of grey. He carried the boys up to the room and set them on one of the queen beds. Steam crept from underneath the door. At least it knew how to shower.

John dragged a chair from the desk over to the bathroom door and stood on it. He drew a pentagram he copied from a piece of paper in his hand with chalk he kept in his pocket. Bobby told him it would trap demons in it. John hated to do this sort of business with his kids there, but it wasn't like he could force this thing to do anything.

*****Cool transition here!*****

When she walked out, completely naked and wet, John looked up from the book he had not been reading, waiting to see what would happen. With the door open, he could see a large puddle on the bathroom floor.

"What, did you not close the shower curtain?" He tossed his book on the floor and grabbed at the sides of his hair as he pushed by her in a hurry. He didn't want to lose his deposit. After John soaked up the mess with towels, he noticed she was still wet and staring at him naked through the doorway.

"Aw, jeez. You must be freezing," he mumbled as he got up and retrieved the last hand towel from the rack. He started to pat her dry, wondering why he cared at all. He would see in a moment if she could move from the spot she was in. She did, backing up suddenly as the towel brushed against her chest, her fair face going red.

"S-stop..." she stammered. John suddenly felt ashamed of himself, his pants growing tight.

"I'm sorry, miss. I don't even know your name." He tried to keep his eyes on her face, and held the hand towel strategically to block his view.

"Castiel," she whimpered.

"Castiel. A pretty name. You're obviously not a demon. But you talk about the Apocalypse like you know what's what. Tell me, what is it you think I can do to stop it." John whispered huskily as he moved closer, keeping his eyes locked on her wide, panicked gaze. He felt as if he could barely keep control.

"Kill the demon who killed your wife. If you discover the omens, you can track him. Have faith," Castiel stammered.

"Oh, I do have faith," John murmured as he dropped the towel, and crushed his lips against hers. She responded gently at first, and then pressed against him with a need that reminded him why he loved Mary so much. If he squinted, Castiel almost looked like her.

She pushed him onto the second queen bed, straddling his legs as she undid his belt. He shrugged out of his pants and shirt and rolled over on top of her. John guessed protection wouldn't be a problem.

*****Cool transition here!*****

Castiel dismounted his lap, breathing heavily while she put on the motel sweatpants. Equally out of breath, John sat up to kiss her on the cheek and put an arm around her.

"I thought you weren't used to humans. Where did you learn that?" he asked huskily. Her reply was delivered simply, but was oddly cryptic.

"I learned that from the pizza man."

* * *

(I've decided to add a song list since this show that is so centered around music it practically demands it whilst I write.)

Song list:  
Ride On - AC/DC


	2. Chapter 2

Disclaimer: Supernatural does not belong to me, I just borrowed it for play.

A/N: Yay second chapter! Please if you re-read the first chapter, I've added new details, and changed some things around. If this chapter confuses you, then please please PLEASE! You can't say I didn't inform you to re-read the first chapter. 12/28/10

A/N2: Also, this chapter has my sort of second smutty scene. If you can't handle pure gorgeousness, please skip over it. If you can handle it, please let me know what you hate about it! I'm actually kind of embarrassed.

* * *

John Winchester sat on a bench, watching his son, Dean, run across the field with a soccer ball, playing with two kids he had met in school. It was one of the rare occasions he had to spend with his son. It was Sammy's third birthday, and John tried to be sure he would be around for it. A man in a trench coat sat next to him, also watching the boys.

About the confront the pervert, John turned fully and was startled when the man looked into his eyes and put his hand on his.

"It has been awhile, John Winchester. Much longer for me." John didn't dare pull his gun in the park, but he rested his hand on the grip of the gun that was tucked in the waistband behind his back.

"Who are you? What do you want?" Frowning, his cerulean eyes widened as he paused, then replied.

"This is a different form, but I am Castiel."

"Castiel was a woman."

"Jillian Novak was a woman. I am Castiel."

"So what, you're just possessing some tax accountant?" John spat disgustedly at him.

"No, we are not like demonic abominations. Our vessels are willing."

"Yeah right," John turned forward again, but keeping his hand behind his back, "So what do you want this time?"

"I have come on a personal favor of Dean."

"How do you know my son?"

"I know your son as he is at the age of thirty-four. I have known no better man."

"What, not me?" John pouted sarcastically.

"I have hardly known you. Your son and I have been through much." Castiel replied, not understanding.

"So what's the favor? Why now?"

"Tonight Dean will give Sam a birthday card, in which Sam end up ripping and throwing away after something happens somewhere. I'm not entirely sure. Dean wants it now as a present for Sam."

"So you're running an errand. I'm a little surprised, but I guess I can kind of understand. Not a lot of money in our business for gifts," John remarked, taking his hand off his gun now. Castiel started to lean into him, but he blocked him with his arm.

"Sorry, no can do, sweetheart. I liked your girl body much better."

"I can not go back into her body easily, she has died since we last met."

"I guess being possessed makes you a little crazy."

"No, she didn't kill herself. It was a car accident. Besides, Dean prefers this body."

"My boy, a homosexual?" John nearly choked on his own tongue.

"No. Not that. He would be unable to concentrate. It is better that I am a man to resist temptation. And I would never want to go there," Castiel said, his face turning a little red as he looked down, "After what happened last time."

"I'd hate to add that to the list of fucked up things in this family," John nodded wholeheartedly.

"I would also like to talk to you, about what happened last time. It didn't work. The path you are on is too strong, we cannot break it. I have another idea, one that you need not worry about until you die."

"And what is that, exactly?"

"I need you to stay strong. If in Hell you shed even one drop of blood, you have started the Apocalypse and create Hell on Earth for your sons."

"Way to not put on the pressure."

"I'm serious, John. And please, bring the birthday card to me tonight. I will be outside the motel by the vending machine."

"Wait-" but when John blinked, Castiel was gone.

*****Cool transition here!*****

John turned the corner of the Motel 6 in his jeans and a light t-shirt. The New Mexico heat carried on into the night. He had a knife tucked into his waistband, since a gun would be obvious, and carried only a piece of paper that had been folded in half, ripped, and then taped back together lovingly by John himself. He was surprised to see the thin blond leaning against the building on the opposite side of the vending machine, in a silver sequined dress and long navy blue coat. Her long lashes fluttered as she looked up at him.

"You have it. Good."

"You changed back..." he murmured, dumbfounded as he handed the card into her snatching hand, "I thought she was dead."

"It is complicated. You're lucky, she almost said no. I told her it was a matter of life or death," Castiel said plainly, making brief eye contact as she put the card away in her- his? It's pocket.

"And you can just lie like that?"

"Only if it is absolutely required."

"Why did you-"

"I wanted to do this," she said softly, reaching out and touching his unshaven face. John vaguely remembered the last time he shaved, it had been almost a week. He leaned in to kiss her forehead, but Castiel maneuvered him to her lips. They were as soft as he remembered. He instinctively enveloped her in his arm. It really had been a long time, and he didn't always think things through entirely. The look in her eyes told him she felt the same.

He had two hotel rooms. John learned early that when you hunted things, the things often knew it and hunted you back. He didn't feel comfortable again keeping Sammy and Dean around him when he worked, but he didn't always pick a room across town. In this case, this hotel had been the only one available in his budget. They began walking to it, thankfully just around the corner, as if they had both had the same thought simultaneously. John had a lot of time to think about that night, and what had happened between them, and had come to realize that he was Castiel's first. It hadn't bothered him as much as it should have, it only reminded him more of Mary. She was fierce like that, too, her first time.

John expected the same this time around, but Castiel had other plans. She sat him on the bed, knelt on his right side as if she meant to straddle him, but instead pushed him onto his back, and hovered over him. Through the light, her bleached hair had a glowing quality that sucked his mouth dry. She gave him a kiss on the corner of his mouth and partially stood to shrug out of her coat, then laid against him. Castiel kissed along his scruffy jawline, and down his neck, and began to lift his shirt. John grabbed her hand and rolled her onto her back. His knee sunk into the cheap bed as he paused to toss off his shirt into the background.

Her legs dangled off the bed, his right foot still planted on the ground. John pulled off his left shoe, and kicked off his right as he went down to kiss her neck. Castiel's hands went down his chest, pausing as if unsure, and kicked off her heels as she unbuckled his belt. It took her a couple seconds to figure out the mechanism, and John waited patiently. She swallowed, and looked at him with that same panicked gaze he remembered clearly. He kissed along her cheek and ear, pushing the thin straps of her dress off her shoulders one at a time, and then standing to slide her dress off her.

Castiel wasn't wearing a bra, and her nipples hardened with the sudden cold, and had the tiniest underwear he had ever seen on a woman. Didn't go crazy my ass, John thought. He took off his pants and rejoined her.

"You're beautiful," John whispered into her ear. He kissed her mouth, and reassured her with his tongue. Maybe it was then, but he wasn't sure she ever lost it, that she regained control and turned him onto his back. Castiel nudged his legs onto the bed, laying him straight out as she sat on his lap, one knee on either side. She gyrated her hips, grinding her thin frame against him (She learned this from the babysitter), feeling him hard against her. His cool hands, callused but gentle, went up her sides, steadying her, and rested on her rather small chest to hold her up.  
She made small sounds as she ground against him, his thumbs drawing circles around her nipples, warming them. She hooked her thumbs into the waistband of his underwear and pushed them off his hips and he kicked them off. Castiel had started to breath heavily with frustration as she tried to figure out her own underwear. John helped with one hand, just pushing them to the side and placing himself at the entrance. She gave him a grateful look and sighed as he thrust up.

Half a minute later, John rolled over with her, and placed a poorly aimed kiss on her chest. He held her tight against him as she wrapped her arms around his waist. Castiel closed her eyes, moaning softly with every successful thrust. Her legs intertwined with his. It didn't take either of them long, John could only barely hold out until she had finished, his back slick with sweat. Her nails dug into him, and he grunted softly.

"Oh... Mary..." John grunted into the pillow as he climaxed, and froze, realizing what he had said. He lifted his head after to moment to look at her face, to see if she heard. Castiel was still, staring at the ceiling, tears falling from her eyes.

"I'm so sorry," she wept, shaking her head, "I'm so sorry, John."

"No, sweetheart, it's me who should be sorry," John kissed her cheek, regretting his deflowering of someone who suddenly seemed so innocent.

"I'm sorry, John."

"Stop saying that. What on earth do you have to be sorry for?" He brushed a hair off her forehead and kissed it.

"We are all powerful, agents of fate, and yet I can't do one thing for you. Because of rules."

"I don't understand."

"Don't you see?" she said, her eyes full of wet and sparkle. If only he could. "If they would let me, if I could do it, I would bring Mary back for you, in a heartbeat." John sat up then, on the edge of the bed and rested his elbows on his knees, wiping his face with his hands.

"So, what, you would just... I can't even... Can you do that?"

"I'd need at least four others."

"Four other...? Right, you can't tell me what you are."

"I am an angel of the Lord."

John stopped breathing and looked back at her. Castiel's hair was spread about her head like a halo, her pale skin contrasting against the brown sheets. He almost believed her, but it seemed impossible, so he laughed.

"You couldn't possibly be. Why does all this shit go on around you if you're the good guys?"

"My. . . superiors. . . don't think it's their problem," she sighed, as if she didn't agree, "I am a poor example of an angel, John. We are not supposed to express emotion, as it is the gateway to doubt," Castiel told him, sitting up. Her wheat-colored hair fell over her shoulder, brushing against his arm, and he wrapped it around her. He felt conflicted, wanting to demand her... it to try harder, to do everything in it's power, but how could he command her? John's gut told him that her bosses were not only lazy, but ruthless. And he had seen what she could do with a knife.

"I think you could use some work on expressing your emotions myself."

"Like..." she leaned in seductively and kissed him squarely on the mouth, "This?" Castiel placed a hand on his cheek and looked him in the eye.

"Although it's a deep fault for an angel, I do love. God created humans and told us to love them as he did, and I obeyed. I have seen many of His works of art, but you are the only masterpiece I have set eyes on. And I have been around longer than you can even imagine."

John leaned forward and kissed her rosy lips, unsure of what to say in response. He didn't really want an angel's love, just Mary. Just revenge, he reminded himself, pulling himself away from her.

"I think you should go," he said as he stood, reaching for his clothes. John could almost hear the flutter of wings as she blinked into sight beside him, retrieving her own clothes.

"Then it's goodbye, John. You may see a reflection of me, a passing glance, sitting on a bench. I have more. . . errands to run for Dean. But I won't approach you again. I'm sorry."

When John had finished pulling up his pants, it had left. He never really did see her again.

*****Cool transition here!*****

"Who the hell... Cass?" Dean said, nearly jumping out of his skin at the sight of the blond in a silver dress pop out of nowhere behind him in the bathroom mirror.

"Damn it. I'm sorry Dean, I forgot. I have to return her."

And with another breeze, Castiel was gone. Dean leaned over the sink and spat. He shuddered, and rinsed off his toothbrush.

* * *

Playlist for this chapter:

Labor Of Love by Michael Giacchino  
Goodbye To You by Michelle Branch  
Prelude from Bach's Cello Suite No. 1 composed by Bach  
Ride On by AC/DC


	3. Chapter 3

Disclaimer: Supernatural does not belong to me, I just borrowed it for play.

* * *

The moon was full and orange, just rising over the silhouettes of the trees. A young woman, bundled up against the cold sat on a bench next to the pond and watched the rippling reflection of the bright orb. A middle aged man sat next to her sighing. She looked at him, her face lit by just his gaze on her.

"It's so beautiful. Is this what you wanted to show me?"

"Sure," He replied, wearied. He looked up at the moon, large and close, mesmerized by it. He had planned this moment perfectly. "This is where I ask you to marry me."

"Really?" the fair blond asked, gasping. She had waited so long for this moment, and stood up happily, taking off her gloves.

"Dad?"

John turned halfway to look behind him, his arm slung on the green painted bench. This wasn't in the script.

"Oh my God, yes! Yes! I love you, John," young Mary continued behind him, as if she wasn't aware that anything had transpired.

"Oh, jeez, is this how you proposed to Mom?" Dean asked, walking down the grassy hill. John stood and walked around the bench and leaned on it. It took a moment for Dean to get to the sidewalk and under the light. He looked like he hadn't shaved in a month, and had streaks of grey in his hair, but the way his eyes crinkled as he smiled to regard the scene was definitely Dean. They embraced for a moment.

"Where's Sam?"

"Here," a voice called to his left, "Stupid Rugaru, didn't know he travelled with his family." From over Dean's shoulder, John could see Sam walked stiff-leggedly down towards them. Sammy always did have that high center of balance. He had some difficulties in his early training, but he turned out well, John reflected with a smile.

"Look at you two, all grown up. No worries, there are always more bad guys, and more hunters. I've learned that the game never changes, with or without us. So why aren't you two in your own heavens?" John said, smiling as he shifted his weight.

Sam looked at Dean, and they exchanged looks. Dean tilted his head toward his Dad.

"Didn't Cass tell you? It's one of the perks of saving the world from the Apocalypse. Ya'know, shared heavens, all that," he glanced at his brother momentarily, "Cass knew how much family meant to us."

"Cass?" John asked, confused, "Who's Cass?"

"Cass!" Sam turned and called into the forest both Dean and himself had emerged from, "Get your feathery ass down here or I will hunt you down! I definitely don't sleep now, so-"

"Shut up, I'm behind you."

Sam turned and grabbed Cass's shoulder and thrust him forward to John.

"Dad, this is Castiel. Cass, this is our father, John Winchester."

"I know."

"You know?" Dean asked incredulously, "What do you mean, 'I know'? Don't tell me you've been stalking me long before you yanked me from hell."

"No, I," Castiel sighed, looking up barely to meet John's silent gaze, "No, although it's a very touching thought. I should have been more guiding with your soul, but that's not what happened. I... may have been misinterpreted as someone who takes children for his own worldly pleasures."

Castiel put his hands out defensively and looked all around at each of the men standing before him, "Which I was not, of course."

"I hope you kicked his ass," Dean smirked, looking up at John. He always was a little shorter than everyone.

"Something like that," John murmured.

"I also have another gift for you," Castiel said softly, gesturing for them to come closer. He placed a hand on Sam's sleeve, and when they next blinked, they were somewhere vaguely familiar.

"Where.. Is this the roadhouse?" Sam asked, surprised, "I'd almost forgotten..."

Ellen was leaning across the bar talking to Ash, and Jo sat on the bar with her back to them.

"Winchester?" she asked, puzzled. Ellen hopped over the bar as Jo turned, smiling. She practically plowed into John, knocking over a table and the condiments went spilling across the floor. Jo also came to a near skip across the floor to Dean. She gave him a far more gentle hug. Ash started to stand, but Sam held out a hand.

"Please, don't get up. I'm fine."

Castiel turned completely to stare at Sam creepily. "I am equipped to give hugs."

"No. No thanks," Sam replied slowly, pretty certain that Cass did it on purpose.

Castiel moved to a corner, watching as the six of them conversed, and at some point, Dean and Jo's mouths seems to be a little too close to be talking, but they could have just been very close talking. Some people do that. He wanted to leave, feeling uncomfortable. Dean had called them awkward moments, and as much as Castiel liked to feel as many emotions as he could, he rather disliked this one.

John pulled away from conversation and walked over to where Cass was standing. Sam was more than entertaining for the both of them, and he had never been good with words.

"Cass, huh?"

"Dean says it's a sign of friendship. I would give you a nickname, but I don't think we are friends any longer."

"I'm fine with John. And we're friends if you've been takin' good care of my boys."

"Yes. Your boys are fine. Except for that they are dead."

"They're fine," John said as comfortingly as he could, leaning forward, "I think you did just fine."

"I am uncomfortable. Awkward."

"Me too. Listen, I-"

"I can change my form now, since I'm very high on the chain of command now. To your liking."

"So, you make the rules?"

"I do."

"I have one rule for you," John said softly, running a finger over Castiel's furrowed brow, "Don't ever change."

He leaned forward and captured Cass's lips with his. It was strange, his lips were rough and hard, but it wasn't the first time he kissed a man. Once, back in the Marines. Times were tough. This was different of course, Castiel was more than just something to appease a sudden desire. He had honestly been there for his boys when he couldn't, had given his all to make everything right by John and Dean, and didn't ask for a single thing in return. Except one.

The buzz of conversation slowly died as Jo, who had been glancing over curiously, suddenly jabbed an elbow into Dean's side. Dean, confused, followed Jo's finger and his ears reddened.

"_Cass!_" Dean hissed, getting everyones attention unintentionally, "What are you doing to my Dad?"

"Um," Castiel said, biting his lower lip as he looked around the larger man to meet Dean's furious gaze, "I think he's doing it to me."

After a moments silence, Cass looked at John, who hadn't taken his eyes off of the trench coat wearing angel. He looked back at the group who were still staring agape, Dean searching for a comeback.

"I'm just going to zap us somewhere else, then?"

* * *

Playlist:  
Labor Of Love by Michael Giacchino  
Goodbye To You by Michelle Branch  
Prelude from Bach's Cello Suite No. 1 composed by Bach  
Ride On by AC/DC

A/N: Points go to people who recognize the mini reference I included in this chapter!

A/N2: I churned this out over two hours. I'm kind of tired, please send me some encouragement. I almost never ask for any, but I feel if I'm going to do a lovely homo-erotic scene, I need a little prodding. Not that I don't love to do it, but I feel like a minority of the John/Castiel fandom. Also, for those only wanting the het stuff, don't click the next chapter button. I guarantee it will be some butt sex smut all the way through. Also, I'm pretty sure this chapter sucked, but I really needed it to lead into the other stuff. I'm sorry. Don't hurt me. D:


End file.
